A Scent-sible Outcome

We have some smelly issues going on in the Shissler household today.  I know what you're all thinking and, NO, it's not because of THAT. :) 

You may recall that last year we had some issues with our geothermal not working properly, and finally were told that it can get "stuffed up" if we don't open it up and put bleach in the drip tray every few weeks.  Yesterday, I was painting in the basement and thought I might as well go ahead and add the bleach before I forgot again.  Problem was, once I got it opened up, I couldn't remember how much bleach you're supposed to add.  So I just poured some in.  I'd estimate that I added somewhere between 1/2 a cup-1 cup. 

I guess that's too much.

Yesterday, Adam came home early from work because he thought he was sick.  (Symptoms included: tired, red faced, needing a shower.  If that is what constitutes being "sick," women everywhere should be calling in to work today.)  After his 3 hour nap, he came in and asked if I'd added bleach to the system, because it was blowing a bleach scent out the A/C vents.  I thought he was overreacting.

He wasn't.  This morning, the whole house smells like bleach and I can't escape it.  We're gonna have some major candles goin' on up in here today! :)  Whoops!  I still don't know how much bleach to add though...

There is one more scent-related issue I have to discuss.  It has recently come to my attention that many men, before they "take the Browns to the Superbowl," have developed a habit of taking off their wedding band, so as not to get it dirty.  I laughed so hard when I heard this, because I thought it was a joke.  It's not a joke; these men are dead set that it's the only way to stay clean.  So I'm taking a poll of men AND women: Do you remove your ring(s) before you go?  If so, are you right or left handed?

B&B Hell

Last Friday, I corrected an urban myth.  You see, legend had it that, particularly on specific stretches of 3-4 days during the months of May-October, a horrible thing happens.  St. Louis, an otherwise lovely city, becomes infiltrated with a plague.  Legions of creatures with blue clothing descend upon the city, shouting obscenities and jeering at our fine citizens, all in the name of baseball (though if you don't do anything for 100+ years, does it really count as baseball?  I digress).   Many St. Louis residents believe the legend's most important lesson: There are no ruder creatures on Earth than the very blue-clothed degenerates I just spoke of...Cubs fans. 

The legend stands corrected. 

In fact, I attended Friday night's Cards vs. Cubs game with two such people, and they were perfectly lovely human beings.  I didn't encounter any issues until AFTER the game.

You see, my friend and I planned a trip to St. Louis for ourselves and our husbands.  Since we always stay downtown and visit that scene, we thought it would be nice to do something a little different.  Much to my surprise, considering her poor taste in sports teams, she found a delightful B&B just outside the downtown area.  We realized after perusing their website that the owners were a gay couple, but decided to keep that piece of information to ourselves, as our respective husbands come from small towns and do not encounter many members of the gay population. 

We checked in before the game and were greeted by one of the owners, who was positively delightful.  He helped us with our bags, showed us to our rooms and, most importantly, showed us where the cookie jar was.  I love this guy! 

After the game, we headed back towards the B&B, and ordered an Imo's pizza.  Those of you who have ever tried to order a pizza after a Cardinals game can probably guess the kind of issues I was dealing with on the phone, trying to place this order: sitting on hold, barely being able to hear once they DID answer, and being rushed right off the phone, ASAP...but not without a promise that the delivery person would call when they were on their way.  I didn't think anything of this, considering that is pretty much standard practice, in my experience, when they deliver to a hotel.  We were also told (at 11:10) that it would be at least an hour before the delivery person arrived.  No problem.  We considered ourselves lucky they weren't done for the night.

We got back to our friends' room, which was on a lower floor, and decided to wait there for 45 minutes or so, then go outside and wait, so as not to disturb any other guests or the owners (who live on property).  So you can imagine our surprise when, at 11:55, my phone rings and the delivery man says he's already here.  We never heard a doorbell, a knock, nothing, so we assumed he was waiting outside. 

We were mistaken.  Apparently the doorbell only rings inside the owners' quarters, which is why we never heard it, but it was rung, because the delivery man was inside, standing there with a man who turned out to be the other owner of the B&B.  And the owner was PISSED!

He proceeded to scream at me, and the pizza delivery man, while I was attempting to pay for the pizzas.  At first, I thought he was joking, because he made comments like, "You really ordered pizzas at midnight?"  I learned quickly that he was very serious and very angry.  He began to yell about how he was startled awake in the middle of the night, from a sound sleep, by the doorbell, which kind of scared him, only to find a pizza delivery man standing there.  I apologized repeatedly, and explained that we were told the driver would call when he was on his way and they never called.  I explained how sorry I was for his inconvenience.  The pizza man apologized to me, to him, and for me to him.  He said they usually leave a note if he's supposed to call and there was no note, so he didn't realize he should call.  (Brief aside: I can understand how annoying it must be to be woken up in the middle of the night.  I can understand why he might be worried because they are located in a nice area....but there's a not so nice area a few blocks away.  It's not like I don't realize there was a "party foul" committed.) 

Did both my and the delivery man's apologies stop the screaming?  HELL no.  It just got worse!  As the pizza man was leaving, the owner began ranting and raving "This is so rude and outrageous!  I'm sorry but this kind of thing just pisses me off.  I'm the innkeeper and I live here too and my doorbell gets rung in the middle of the night and it's a pizza delivery guy?  Who orders pizza at midnight? Are you kidding me?  What are you, in a gang?" 

A gang?  Really?  REALLY?!  I understand the startled state and the frustration, but when you hear that a person orders a pizza at midnight the first thing you think of is that perhaps they're in a GANG? 

W....T....F?!?!

Now is as good a time as any to mention that I was wearing navy linen shorts from Gap, and a gray tshirt from VS with red glitter and the word "love" written multiple times across the back.  What kind of gang has a uniform of linen shorts and glitter/love?  The gay gang?  The Britney Spears Club?  Oh, I know, the infamous Former Sorority Girl Gang.  Give me a freakin' break, dude. 

I think, perhaps if I hadn't been so busy trying to not to cry, I would have laughed in his face.  But, the reality is, I was humiliated and terrified because this guy seemed totally unstable.  In fact, the only reason this whole encounter ended, was because (even after my continued apologies and promises it wouldn't happen again) this bitchy queen finally stomped off (literally, stomped) waving his hands frenetically and saying "Fine, whatever, just GO eat your (insert sassy at-ti-tude tone here) PIZZA and I'll see you at breakfast."

But we didn't see him at breakfast.  In fact, we didn't see him at all the rest of our stay there.  To be totally accurate, since I was the one who went down to get the pizza, I'm the only one who ever saw him at all.  If it hadn't been for this incident, neither my husband nor my friend's husband would've ever known there WAS another owner. 

The incident was never mentioned by the original (polite) owner.  No apology was ever given.  No free night's stay offered.  Nothing.  I guess they're pacifists.  Whatever.  Frankly, the queen diva is lucky I came down to pick up the pizza and not one of our drunken closed-minded husbands.  It could have been a lot worse, and I am (seriously) thanking God that it was me downstairs and not them. 

What's really unfortunate is that (other than the infamous "pizza throwdown") it is a beautiful B&B, very comfortable with large rooms.  The breakfast was good, the nice owner knew just how long to chit chat and when to leave you alone, as if it were a 6th sense almost.  The location is excellent, very close to downtown, but also close to more unique shops and restaurants.  Unfortunately, we will never return. 

The Goofy Food Gang (or Muffin Top Clan, whatever you prefer) will spend our money elsewhere.

Goofy Ridge, This Link's for You!

This study was conducted for my entertainment.  I know it.  Just when I think nothing is going on in the world, this little gem arrives on my desktop.  Thank you MSNBC.

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38474231/ns/health/

For those of you too lazy to click a link, here is a summary of the situation:

-It's titled "Meth Use in Pregnancy Endangers Mom and Baby."  Well, no shit. 
-Ido Solt, a doctor at Cedars-Sinai in LA treated three pregnant women in the ICU for uncontrolled high blood pressure.  '"The common denominator was methamphetamine use,' Solt told Reuters Health."  This guy is a genius! 
-Then, instead of reporting these women to the police for child endangerment, illegal drug purchase/use, whatever, he and his colleagues decided to do some research on them.  They studied 276 meth-using pregnant women who gave birth in a hospital in Phoenix, and compared them to the control group of 34k women who value their babies' health...er...did not use meth.  To the shock of absolutely no one, "on pretty much every measure Solt and his team looked at, methamphetamine users and their babies fared worse." 
-"Faring worse" included: 50% of the babies being born pre-term, 29% via C-section, 20% with uncontrollable high blood pressure and, in a whopping 10%, the placenta separated from the uterus before birth.  Not cool.  Oh, and let's not forget the 4% that died shortly after birth.
-I think my favorite, if there can be a favorite, part of this article is the section where they state that one might think it would be easy to ID a meth user, whether pregnant or not, many of the typical signs of methamphetamine usage (gaunt figure, rotten/missing teeth, skin issues) were not present in these women.  So you're telling me pregnant women aren't rail thin?  NO WAY! 

So there you have it, Ridge Rats, listen up.  Even copious amounts of methamphetamine won't get rid of that baby belly. 

Whatcha Gonna Do When They Come For You?

My apologies for the techno difficulties we've been experiencing as of late.  I think they are all resolved now, so make sure to notice the new iTunes links on the right side of this page, which will take you directly to the iTunes store. I also have a new search function, on the right side of this page as well...just in case you think I said something so hilarious you want to share it with your friends, but don't have the time to scroll through 100 blog posts to find it.  You're welcome. :)

Moving right along...Sunday was unintentionally interesting.  Adam and I were watching True Blood when his phone rang.  We ignored it...because we were watching True Blood.  Duh.  Then my phone started ringing immediately after his quit, so we thought we better pause our vampire show, since something important might need our immediate attention.  At the time, I couldn't think of anything that would be more important than whether Sookie would live or die but, alas, I was wrong.

On the phone was our good friend who drove past our house on her way home.  When I answered, the first thing she said was "I don't mean to freak you out but (which of course makes you freak out more) you need to call the police and lock your doors right away."   Oooook?
Apparently on the drive past our house, she noticed a Grand Am parked in the middle of the road, between our house and our old house (which Adam's cousin rents).  Both doors on the Grand Am were wide open and apparently 2 scurvy looking guys were wandering in the street, with no shoes on, although their shoes were in the middle of the road as well. 

I did make sure to lock the doors, but before I called the cops, I wanted to call Adam's cousin and make sure she didn't know something about these people/the car in case it was one of her friends playing a joke on her or something.  That would be embarrassing.  "What'd you do Sunday night?"  "Oh nothing, just called the cops on my cousin's friends because they were barefoot."  Right.  So I called down there and she not only didn't know anything about the situation but couldn't even see the car or the people my friend called about.  I went outside and, wouldn't you know, I couldn't see them either.  A car doesn't just disappear, especially a parked one...wtf? 

We hung up and said we'd both lock our doors and keep our eyes out for strange activity/people.  As soon as I sat down, the phone rang again, and Adam's cousin was whispering that she still couldn't see the car but those 2 guys were on her property because she could hear every word they were saying.  Now she's sufficiently freaked out because they look like they're on something, and she has 4 kids.  So she sends her fiance out to see what they're doing, and sure enough, there are the 2 weirdos right in their driveway, standing under the telephone pole.  Her fiance drives up, and immediately the 2 guys start asking if he can give them a ride.  Naturally, he declined, but was polite about it.  Not that his good manners mattered much because they immediately started calling him a "N***** bitch."  (Her fiance is white...so not only is that a totally inappropriate and racist comment, it doesn't even make sense.)

No matter how polite her fiance was, they kept screaming obscenities at him (a sure way to get a stranger to help you, I might add) until he told them he was going inside to call the police and they should leave.  When he got a hold of the cops, the dispatcher already knew the exact street number, had received several complaints already, said someone was on the way, but the officer was coming from Bath, so it "might be awhile."  The fiance promptly alerted the dispatcher that that was great, but if the 2 turds came back and start causing trouble, he wasn't going to wait for the police to take care of the situation.  I guess that comment made the police nervous because 2 minutes later, I got another phone call from Adam's cousin asking if I'd seen the creeps because the officer was driving up and down our road and he couldn't find them.  I appreciated her asking, but it's not like I was sitting outside in the dark waiting for some stupid ridge rats to come and rob me blind.  No, I had not seen them.  Buuuuuut I went outside to look anyway, and I could hear them talking, just past the treeline next to our driveway.  Great.  Luckily, the cop happened to find them about 10 seconds after I did, so I just sat on the porch and listened. 

I couldn't make out the whole conversation but from what I did hear, they told the officer that they were "just walking home" and "stopped in the driveway so they could see where they were going" (which makes no sense...if you're on your way home...don't you know where you're going?  Especially if you're WALKING?) and that "the guy at the other house down the street came out and started yelling at us." (Not true, and of course the cop knew it.)

After that, most of what I heard was this crazy, "I'm on something wicked" kind of laugh.  Not a stoner laugh, we all know what that sounds like.  This was really high-pitched and just not right.  Needless to say it was obvious to everyone who heard it that these 2 ridge rats were tweakin' big time.  Eventually the cop did let them go, but he was nice enough to stop and pick their shoes up out of the road. 

The next morning Adam and his cousin's fiance were both out and about early for work and each of them noticed that there were a pair of girls' flip flops out in the road as well...so now we are wondering whether the car that our friend initially reported was driven by some girl, and she kicked them out and drove off and left their dumb butts behind. 

All I can say is, if you're going to steal a car, you have to be dropped off by someone...so, local friends, quit leaving your keys in your cars and your doors unlocked.  Never knew when tweaker dee and tweaker dumb might be back.